I slip down in my seat
trying to be invisible
and small.
The lessons are droning
on and on and on.
All I am aware of is the
tick, tick, tick
as I watch the
clock on the wall.
Waiting for release,
the clang of the bell,
the end of the day,
hoping things will be well.
Outside classrooms,
in a class by myself,
I shuffle in my
worn out sneakers,
forgetting for the moment
Bunsen burners, test tubes,
and beakers.
To syntax and Shakespeare
I can no longer relate,
nor your conservative, liberal
classist debate.
I just want to go home,
and if I’m lucky, eat.
Forget all this homework
I just want to sleep.
To wake up tomorrow
wash, rinse, and repeat.
I pray for salvation
or universal delete.

M. Zane McClellan

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